


Acceptance

by TheNillaWafer



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (listen we know damn well Ryuji couldn't keep his mouth shut lets be real here), Family Bonding, Fluff, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 18:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15516270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNillaWafer/pseuds/TheNillaWafer
Summary: They made a pact to keep their faces hidden, and their heists in the shadows. You know what they say? Loose lips sink ships.(Originally written as part of the Love, Skull Zine and posted with permission from the zine operators, please read the notes beforehand, thanks!)





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my dudes! 
> 
> This piece actually comes as an exclusive that I worked on for a digital zine that we we're given permission to post our work and spread the word and all that good stuff. You can view here (probably copy and paste the link, I promise it's not a virus or spam or anything)! --> https://loveskull-zine.tumblr.com/post/175676364306/download-your-copy-now
> 
> (*credited as "americannoteven" because ayo that's my tumblr. shameless plug i know lmao)
> 
> Please, I highly urge you to please check it out! It's a free not-for-profit zine all about our Best Boy Ryuji! I was honored to work alongside 24 other talented, passionate, and amazing creators; one other writer and 23 stellar artists! This was my piece in the zine, so if you happened to enjoy this lil' snippet, then please, please, PLEASE, just at least check out the rest of the zine and feel free to support the other content creators for their hard work and amazing efforts! 
> 
> With that aside, sorry for the lack of updates! I still haven't forgotten about that P4/P5 crossover many of y'all want me to continue and I assure you, it's coming together! There's also plenty of other series' I've been diving into so eventually I'd love to write for them as well! We'll see where the winds take me! 
> 
> Enough chit-chat. Hope you enjoy! (And don't forget, feel free to check out that zine guys!)

Hours prior, instead of a doting, motherly kiss to his cheek, it was a swift and powerful punch of a gruesome, ghastly looking shadow in the Metaverse. Ryuji-- _ Skull-- _ could still feel his head connect to ground with a hard  _ THUD _ , the numb, red-hot feeling still ebbing violently in his brain even now in the comfort of his own home.

After concentrating on meal prep while fighting the barrage of protests from Dearest Mother, Ryuji proudly presents her with a fresh, steamy bowl and the two eagerly take a seat at the table, the soft droning of the television on behind them. 

Mrs. Sakamoto’s dark eyes glisten with great contemptment, nose wrinkling at the same, warm and wide smile her son inherited as she’s quick to give her compliments to the teenage chef. Ryuji can only scoff, unable to hide the bashful smirk tugging at his own lips.

He knows his mother means every word that hangs from her lips. The feeling makes his heart swell in that cheesy, childish kind of way to know that it’s never taken for granted.

Ryuji’s smile only begins to falter at the sound of a grunt across from him, and he follows his mother’s glance at the television-- _ Oh.  _ Beside the newscaster on the screen is a bold logo that catches his eye, one he’d certainly recognize anywhere with it’s vivid crimson and bold blacks. A deep voice reaches the two of them from the speakers and Ryuji feels himself tense up, “...All of Tokyo seems to beg the question, ‘ _ Just who are the Phantom Thieves?’” _

The newscaster continues on his droning tone, but it’s the sudden sigh from Mrs. Sakamoto’s lips that’s throws Ryuji even further off. Chopsticks trembling slightly in his grip, he hesitates and dares to ask what the issue is. 

“Oh, nothing... It’s just... between the psychotic breakdowns and now these... these Phantom Thieves, I just...” She drops her gaze and lets a few strands of dark, age dusted hair slipping to fall like a veil before her face.

He risks raising a question with a hesitant twirl of his chopsticks in the now-lukewarm bowl before him, “...You think the Phantom Thieves are bad, er...?”

Mrs. Sakamoto shrugs her slender shoulders, baggy convenience store uniform rippling at the movement as she continues to stare down at her bowl, “No, it’s just... it’s a dangerous place nowadays. I just tend to worry...”

There’s a moment’s pause, but Ryuji suddenly finds himself smiling, “Hey, I wouldn’t sweat it too much, Mom,” He finds it easy to keep a steady, calm tone. “Yeah, sure, the world ain’t pretty n’ all, but... I dunno, despite everything... I can’t help but feel kinda good ‘bout it...!” 

His mother smiles warmly, tenderly, the creases deepening around the features of her face with growing age, and the gesture only ushers him to continue, “You can trust the Phantom Thieves, Mom. It’s their  _ job  _ t’ catch all the shitty adults n’ pieces a’ crap that make this place dangerous...!” A sudden interjection of his foul language goes ignored. He carries on, “They’re good people, Mom! Like, um, superheroes! They take those scumbags ‘n just... give ‘em hell!”

Mrs. Sakamoto still carries the downtrodden expression on her face, so Ryuji takes the initiative to reach over and comfort her with a warm hand on her arm, “We ain’t gonna let  _ anything  _ happen to you, Mom. I swear on it...!”

Thin, weathered lips perk up into a soft smile, “Juji, that’s sweet, thank you... but... who’s ‘we’? A-And what’s that have to do with the Phantom Thieves?”

_ Dammit.  _ Ryuji’s expression melts—no, evaporates—straight off his face in an instant, replaced with a horrified and wide-eyed grimace in its place. He’s scrambling for an answer, racking his brain for a conceivable lie while frazzled grunts and hums sputter out from his mouth like a leaking faucet. His mother, yet again, beats him to the punch, “Also, Juji... what’s on your face? It’s all red...?”

_ Crapcrapcrapcrap— _

“Mom, I-It’s nothing, I-I just, ummm... I just fell—yeah, yeah—just, duh, fell and uh tripped and hit my face n’—“

“Sweetie... oh God,” Mrs. Sakamoto leans in for a closer observation, “Your lip is split! Why didn’t you say something!” 

“Mom, I-I swear, I-It’s nothin’! It, uh, it’s j-just, stuff  _ clearly  _ at school and uh, not, uh, other places and uh—

“Ryuji.”

“—I-I’m serious! I-It ain’t nothin’—Y-You can ask Akira or Ann or--”  _ Dammit. “-- _ They’re with me all the time an’--!”  _ Goddammit just shut up already...! _

“Sakamoto Ryuji.” His heart stops, frozen in a distant yet familiar fear. He hasn’t heard such an harsh, authoritative voice in  _ years.  _ For a split second, it takes him back, back to when  _ three  _ people occupied the small table and the stench of alcohol reeked in the air and foul threats left his childish lips unknowingly because he wanted to be  _ just like daddy.  _ Disgusting.

Ryuji realizes too late that suddenly he’s crying. Not at the ghoulish memory that comes into his head, but at the realization that  _ he’s made his mother worry.  _ He fails to see her glance jump between him and the television, back and forth, back and forth...

“...Ryuji, tell me honestly... Are you... one of the Phantom Thieves...?” 

_ Dammitdammitdammitdammit!  _ He’s crying even harder now as he recalls the pact they’d all made to protect their names and hide their faces; the trust they’ve all placed on each other. Ryuji knows there’s no way out of this--his mother’s too perceptive, too worrisome and too protective. He can only manage a meek nod before slumping down onto the table, his head buried deep in the crook of his arm.

Suddenly, the warmth of a rough, chapped hand rests atop his own, drawing the young punk’s attention up from his arms. His mother dons a weary smile, sincere, but even though the tears Ryuji can tell there’s a hint of fear mingled in with it. “Juji, I... I don’t know what you guys do, o-or, um...  _ how  _ you do it... but... I trust you, okay?” Ryuji forces himself to bite back more sobs that rise quickly and violently, as if threatening to claw their way out from his throat as she continues. He uses a free hand to brush away the tears from his puffy eyes, moving to squeeze the slender, rough hand as a means to keep him tethered to reality, “You have my word, I won’t say  _ anything _ ... but remember, you’ll always be my little boy, okay? I just... I-I just want you to be safe, Juji...”  _ You’re all I have left.  _ Ryuji heeds her one and only concern, her  _ plea,  _ to not be reckless, and while he can’t promise it completely, he swears, through a cracking voice and redden face, that he’ll try his absolute  _ damndest _ for her sake. 

After a moment of emotional silence, Ryuji rises from the table, letting his hand slip from her grasp and abandon the now cooled bowl of noodles as he moves to pull his mother into a tight, warm hug. He feels so small again, but he knows it’s only because of her love and support showering over him and as he buries himself deeper into the fabric of the uniform on her shoulders he musters up a soft, caring voice, “...L-Love ya, Mom...” 

She returns the hug with just as much vigor and strength, “I love you too, Juji.”


End file.
